


Words Better Left Unsaid

by Lobo_Loca



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Dying Confessions, Insecure Lance (Voltron), M/M, Mild Gore, Mild Graphic Injury, Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 16:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10495218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobo_Loca/pseuds/Lobo_Loca
Summary: "Lance’s hands shook.They didn’t usually do that. Not even under pressure because Lance usually worked best under pressure and sharpshooters without steady hands were useless."With Keith injured from an explosion and pursued by soldiers of the Galra Empire, it's up to Lance to get them both off planet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as about 800 words of chat-form dialogue I inflicted upon silver-yuka over on tumblr chat, and she insisted that I should make as many other people cry as possible. So blame her. But also feel free to come scream about how horrible a person I am in my askbox on tumblr (username loboloca). *crawls back into my hole*
> 
> Update: I just noticed that for whatever reason, the bit at the end with Hunk talking with Lance afterwards wasn't there. I have fixed that.

Lance’s hands shook.

They didn’t usually do that. Not even under pressure because Lance usually worked best under pressure and sharpshooters without steady hands were useless.

He took a deep breath, careful not to breathe through his nose. His hands still trembled faintly, but he managed to grasp the longest and most intact strip from Keith’s ruined pant leg and tuck it under his lower thigh.

“Lance,” Keith snapped urgently. “Lance _, get out of here_.”

Lance didn’t look away from his hands as he twisted one end of the cloth strip around the other. “Shut up, Keith.” He pulled the cloth tight, ignoring Keith’s pained grunt. “I'm trying to make sure you don't bleed out while we make a run for it.”

Keith sighed, familiar and exasperated, and Lance’s heart clenched. “Goddamn it, Lance. I'm missing half my leg, we're in the ass-end of nowhere with half the Galra fleet on our asses, and your Lion's on top of a cliff.”

Lance’s gaze slipped below the makeshift tourniquet, past Keith’s knee and partway down his shin, just long enough to see a glimpse of tattered and bloodied skin and jagged pinked-stained bone and shards of armor and dark marrow and blood dark flesh with patches of gritty dirt and sand and gravel, before he jerked his gaze back to the dusty cloth of Keith’s undersuit, doing his best to ignore the tacky rust-colored spots and streaks.

With a shaky breath, Lance curved an arm under Keith’s shoulder and another around his waist and stood, hauling Keith up with him. They wobbled, Lance clutching Keith and Keith’s hand latching onto Lance’s shoulder plate.  Keith staggered along as they walked, awkwardly hopping every third stride and all but dragged the rest of the while.

“We're going to make it,” Lance said as they reached the base of the cliff.

“Not if you're trying to carry me the entire way.”

Lance whipped his head around, snarling,“I'm not leaving you behind!”

Looking at Keith was a mistake. Lance had avoided it since finding Keith in among the rubble from the Galra base with most of his leg missing below the left knee because Lance knew. He knew the moment he looked at Keith’s face that he’d see burning black eyes dulled with pain and resignation and hopelessness, and eyebrows pinched together in pain, and mouth pressed into a thin bloodless line with a grimace twisting the corners down.

Keith met Lance’s gaze solemnly. “You have to, Lance,” he said quietly. “We're so close, and finding two Paladins—that's going to be hard. But finding three? That'd be near impossible.”

“Stop talking like you're already dead,” Lance insisted, turning back to the cliff. When they climbed down, it had seemed smaller, about as treacherous as the rock climbing wall in the Castle of Lions. Now the cliff loomed overhead, stretching so high it seemed to scrape the sky and all but sheer.

Trying to climb on his own would’ve been plenty difficult, nevermind with an exhausted passenger missing part of a leg who had lost a lot of blood and was teetering on the brink of shock.

Keith leaned heavily onto Lance’s shoulder, murmuring knowingly, “Lance.”

“I can't just—I can't just _leave you here to die_ ,” Lance objected vehemently. Mainly because if Lance let on he was afraid Keith wouldn’t let Lance help him up again. “You can't expect me to go back and tell everyone I left you behind!”

“Then you'd rather they find out we died when they realize the Galra Empire's gotten their hands on the Blue Lion?” Keith asked blandly.

Lance growled back, “Shut up, you asshole.” He stared at the cliff, willing it to shrink or for sturdier handhold to appear or _something, anything_ because like hell he was leaving Keith behind.

Keith rolled his eyes. “I'm not letting you die here with me so climb that goddamn cliff and get out of here.”

“You’re not going to die,” Lance stubbornly insisted.

Keith growled, weakly wrenching away from Lance. He wobbled a little, steadied himself against the cliff face, and glared. “Well neither of us have a shot in hell without your Lion and you can’t carry me all the way up, so _climb_.”

“I’m coming back,” Lance said as he grabbed his first handhold and poked at a potential toehold with his foot. “As soon as I get in Blue, I’m coming back so you better still be alive when I get back.”

“Less talking, more climbing,” Keith ordered.

Lance grumbled, but pulled himself up onto the cliff face and started picking out handholds and toeholds. The cliff didn’t seem prone to crumbling or cracking which, on the one hand, was rather nice so Lance didn’t have to worry about a hand or toehold failing while he was using it. On the other, it made finding handholds and toeholds that weren’t some flavor of too smooth or too small _extremely_ interesting.

Lance squinted at the cliff face overhead. His best bet was planning out a route so he wouldn’t run out of holds and have to double back. At least the Paladin armor’s jets allowed him a little extra leeway. Not much since they were really designed for the zero gravity of space, but more than nothing.

However, the fuel cells were nearly empty.

Because that was Lance’s life.

Lance took a breath and jumped for the next handhold. His shoulder hit rock, but his hand was more or less secure. He carefully switched hands and swung a little to the left to reach a toehold that was at about thigh height. Lance stretched to grab a small jut of rock over his head and off to the left. Once he was sure of his grip, he slowly brought his right foot up to the hold with his right hand.

Lance winced the protesting burn in his thigh. He really needed to start joining Hunk and Keith for morning yoga. But that would have to wait until they got off this godforsaken planet so Lance focused on dragging himself up the remainder of the cliff.

The top of the cliff was in sight, three or four handholds away, and Lance grinned. They were going to make it.

Keith swore over the comm channel. Lance glanced down, flinching at the sight of a Galra platoon almost to the bottom of the cliff.

“Would’ve been nice to know about the Galra goons before they were almost right on top of us!” Lance called as he scrambled up the last of the cliff.

Keith snapped back, “You were already climbing as fast as you could and making you more anxious wasn’t going to help.”

“Yeah, well, hang in there, buddy,” Lance demanded, sprinting for the Lion. “I'm coming for you.”

Keith didn’t answer as an unfamiliar voice drifted faintly over the comm channel. “And look what we have here: a mighty Paladin of Voltron who can’t even stand on his own.”

Blue bent their head down as Lance neared, mouth open for Lance to dive into.

“Just a little longer,” Lance told Keith.

Keith didn’t reply, which Lance took as a sign that shit had gotten real. Again. Sometimes Lance hated being a Paladin of Voltron.

There was a clash over the comms, followed by a mocking laugh.

Lance booted up the Lion’s controls, whispering under his breathe like a prayer, “C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, c'mon.”

“So the little cub still has some fight left,” the Galra soldier mocked. “Let’s see how long it can last.”

The clashing sound came again and again and it didn’t take a genius to realize it was Keith and the Galra dude fighting.

Blue finally finished waking up, and Lance whooped, telling Keith, “Comin’ for you, buddy! Pick up in less than five!”

Keith grunted as another clang rang over the comms. There was a moment of silence over the comms as Lance dove off the cliff followed by a sudden rush of shouting. He caught a brief glance of Keith standing over a Galra soldier on the ground, surrounded on three sides by more soldiers, before the soldiers fired and the cliff base was filled with blaster bolts.

The comm channel shrieked with static.

Lance swooped down. Blasted a group of soldiers, screaming, “KEITH!”

The blaster fire cut off as the soldiers scrambled away from Lance and Blue.

There was a thump over the comms. A wet cough followed by a quietly hoarse but heartfelt, “ _F’ck_.”

“Hang in there, Keith, I’m coming for you!” Lance yelled, swinging Blue around.

Keith wetly choked out,“Ge’...ou’...L’nce,” as Lance set down Blue between Keith and the remainder of the platoon.

“Already told you that isn’t happening, buddy,” Lance informed him with brittle false cheer as he sprinted for Keith.

The soldiers opened fire, but the blaster bolts bounced off of Blue’s shield as Lance slid to a stop next to Keith. He choked back a whimper.

Keith had landed face down after the blaster barrage, the remainders of his armor scorched and melted around and in the blaster wounds where it hadn’t splintered off and left bare patches to take the brunt of the blasters, drenched in the smell of burnt metal, ozone, and cooking flesh.

Lance stopped breathing through his nose, and carefully turned Keith on his back, wincing at Keith’s faint groan of pain that turned to a weak choking cough halfway through. Lance brushed some  gravel off Keith’s face and winced when it turned out some of the armor shards had fused with his skin in places.

“Shit, sorry,” Lance murmured as he slipped his arms around Keith’s torso and under his knees. “This is going to be just as bad, but bear with it, okay?” Lance hefted Keith into his arms, flinching as Keith’s clammy skin and gritty hair rested against the underside of his jaw. “We’ll be back to the Castle and get you into a healing pod in no time and you’ll be good as new.”

“Y’...’ow...” Keith slurred out laboriously as Lance ran for Blue, but he trailed off without finishing whatever thought he had. Which was a very Not Good sign.

Lance slowed a little as he climbed into Blue, trying not to jostle Keith too much—because that was bad for spinal injuries, wasn’t it? And the probability of Keith having one was really, _really_ high—and asked, “What? C’mon, Keith, buddy, you can’t just leave me hanging like that,” because he remembered something about keeping shock patients talking. Or was that concussions? Either way, talking was a pretty sure sign of hanging in there.

“I…,” Keith started again as Lance gently set him down beside the Paladin’s chair, “‘eally…’m...n….”

“You’re really what?” Lance prodded as he searched the cockpit for something to secure Keith with and maybe a shock blanket while he was at it. “Annoying? Fashionably challenged? Emo?”

Keith hummed. “‘M...n…’ss’ole.”

“You’re an asshole?” Lance translated as he found some space duct tape (though no blanket). Not the best thing, but it’d do in a pinch and they were really in a pinch at this point. “Yeah, well, I hate to say this, Keith, but that’s not actually a secret. At least you’re more loveable asshole than asshole asshole.”

“I…,” Keith continued as Lance carefully secured Keith to the floor of the cockpit. Keith trailed off again, staring off to the side, chest barely rising and falling.

Lance cupped Keith’s clammy face in his hands and turned Keith’s head to look at him. “C’mon, buddy, hang in there. Keep talking while I get us out of here, okay? You’ve got to stay awake as long as you can.”

Keith’s eyes seemed to focus on Lance finally, though they were still glassy. “I…,” Keith said again, a tiny thread of strength coming back to his voice, “lo’...you, L’nce.”

Lance stopped breathing the same moment as Keith.

“Nonono _nonononONO!_ ” Lance screamed, scrambling upright and setting his hands over Keith’s heart as he started pumping. “YOU CANNOT JUST SAY THAT AND STOP BREATHING, YOU COMPLETE _ASSHOLE_.”

Lance pinched Keith’s nose and breathed into his mouth before going back to pumping.

“YOU ARE NOT DOING THIS TO ME, YOU HEAR ME?”

Lance paused long enough to push air into Keith’s lungs again.

“YOU DO NOT GET TO PULL THIS DEVELOPMENT THROUGH MANPAIN BULLSHIT.” Breath. “THIS IS NOT SOME CW TV SHOW.” Breath. “AND IF ANYONE HERE IS A MAIN CHARACTER IT’S YOU!” Breath. “SO DON’T YOU DARE DIE ON ME NOW.” Breath. “Don’t you dare.” Breath. “Please.”

“ _Please_.”

 )

“It’s not your fault,” Hunk said quietly, standing beside the benchpress.

Lance didn’t pause in his weightlifting, replying, “Yeah, it is.”

Hunk sighed and, after the next rep, Lance added, “If it had been you or Pidge or Allura or Coran or if Shiro had been there—you would've been faster or had a better plan or _something_ and Keith would be here and it'd be a non-issue.”

Lance gently lowered the weights back into their cradle and sat up. “But it was me. And I wasn't enough. I need to be stronger, faster, smarter so that it doesn't happen again. So that Keith.” Lance took a breath before continuing shakily, “That Keith _dying_ wasn't a waste.”

“Stop that,” Hunk insisted, circling the bench and grasping Lance gently by the shoulders. “Stumbling onto a Galra outpost, getting caught in an explosion: no one's saying that's your fault because it's _not your fault_ . We’re not going easy on you or sparing your feelings. We’re not going to blame you for something that _you couldn’t have prevented_.”

Lance shrugged off Hunk’s hands and headed for the treadmills. “That stuff, maybe not, but afterwards? If I climbed faster, or been strong enough to carry Keith with me—he'd still be here and we wouldn't be sitting on our asses and giving the Galra all the more time to recover while we look for another.” Lance paused, hands gripping the sides of the treadmill tight. “For another new Paladin. So just save it, Hunk,” Lance said as he climbed on and set a brisk pace. “Please.”

“No,” Hunk said, reaching around to lower Lance’s speeds to barely a jog before crossing his arms over his chest. “I'm not going to 'save it' when you're sitting here on the brink of hurting yourself training every single day. And when you do overdo it and hurt yourself, you don’t slow down or rest. You just focus on a different body part or a different skill and you throw yourself at it. You barely eat when I'm not shoving food into your hands; you talk the bare minimum; you barely sleep; you _stopped your skincare routine_. This isn't healthy, Lance, and, I hate to say it, but none of this is going to bring Keith back.”

Lance stopped the treadmill and stared at the display, quietly asking, “Do you, do you want to know what Keith's last words were?”

“You don't have to—”

Lance continued blithely, “It's kinda funny really. He says.” Lance choked on a bitter laugh. “He says 'You know I really am an asshole'. And I think for a second he's trying to cheer me up; make some stupid quip like I always do, y’know?” he asked rhetorically, throwing Hunk a thin-lipped curve of his mouth before pushing on shakily, voice cracking, “But then. But then he. He told me he loved me. And I realized he was calling himself an asshole because he knew the last thing he’d ever say to me was going to be 'I love you.'”

Lance rested his forehead against the display, forcing himself to breath evenly even as the corners of his eyes watered. “And I. I didn't get the chance to ask how long we'd be idiots or even just. Just say 'I love you too.' It was too late. I was too late.”


End file.
